


Let's Pretend

by unofficialNEET



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Fake/Pretend Relationship, Famous Victor Nikiforov, M/M, Makeup Artist Katsuki Yuuri
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-04
Updated: 2019-01-19
Packaged: 2019-06-05 00:24:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15158417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unofficialNEET/pseuds/unofficialNEET
Summary: In which Yuuri is an intern makeup artist on set for a movie starring Victor Nikiforov.





	1. Chapter 1

“Yuuri!” The sound of his name snapped him out of his reverie. “Mr. Katsuki, stop day dreaming and get back to work. A million people applied for this position; I could replace you with a snap of my fingers if you don’t get back to work,” Yakov Feltsman, the stage manager, barked at him. He was frustrated, running his hands through his graying hair repeatedly. Yuuri had heard this speech from him so many times, he was wondering when he would actually come through on that threat. “Run to Starbucks, Victor asked for a latte five minutes ago! If it isn’t in his hands in ten, he’s going to be upset.”

Yuuri nodded and grabbed his bag out of his chair, heading for the door. The nearest Starbucks was only a block away, so maybe he could make it and not lose his internship only two weeks into the process. They were still in Hollywood, and in two weeks they were packing up and going to Russia to shoot.

He had been really looking forward to going to Russia.

He was interning on a movie set, helping out the make-up and costume department. In reality, though, all he was really doing was running errands for everyone. And when he wasn’t doing that, he was sitting around doing nothing at all.

Returning in seven minutes with Victor’s latte in hand, he was beginning to wonder why he ever wanted to do this internship in the first place. Sure, he wanted to be a make-up artist, and this one of the most sought after internships in Hollywood, but at this point, Yuuri was wondering if it was really worth it. People might think that dealing with celebrities must be amazing, but it was the exact opposite - especially when the star of the movie he was working on was Victor Nikiforov. He was a pop singer turned actor; normally it wasn’t an easy transition, but Victor was amazingly talented. He lit up a room when he wasn’t acting like a diva.

And he was a pretty big diva.

And speak of the diva. Victor walked up to him, hand out expectantly. Yuuri could understand why every woman (and man, for that matter) in the world wanted him. He was gorgeous. Breathtaking, even. His eyes were the color of the water in the Caribbean (not that Yuuri had ever been there, but he’d seen photos); his hair was silver and silky. He was tall too, meeting all the criteria of every one’s dream prince, tall and handsome. And, if he couldn’t get any better, he was Russian. And everyone knows how much people love foreign accents.

Yuuri didn’t realize he was staring at him until Victor cleared his throat. “My latte?”

“Oh,” Yuuri shook his head. “Sorry, here you go.”

“Thanks,” he winked at him and then sauntered off back towards the set.

God, Yuuri was so stupid sometimes. But that didn't keep him from swooning a little on the inside. Yuuri was a huge fan after all - he just had to keep it under wraps. He didn't want anyone on set to find out that he had been a huge fan of Victor ever since Yuuri saw Victor's first movie when he was twelve.

 

 

“Hello?” Someone was waving a hand in front of his face. “Anyone home?”

He blinked and shook his head. “Yeah? Sorry Mr. Feltsman, it won’t happen again,” he apologized, rubbing his eyes. Yuuri shut up as soon as his eyes focused on the face in front of him. “Oh. What can I get you, Mr. Nikiforov?”

“Did they really tell you that you have to address everyone like that? That’s ridiculous. Call me Victor.” He smiled at him, dazzling, white and perfect.

“Okay, Victor,” Yuuri corrected. “What can I do for you?” He was instructed to be super polite to everyone. It was getting annoying.

“What’s your name?” Victor asked him.

“Yu-Yuuri,” he stuttered, thrown off by his question. Why did it matter to him?

“Yuuri,” he grinned, obviously pleased by his reaction. “You’re the make-up intern, correct? I was wondering if you could fix my hair. See, I ran my hand through it and I’m afraid I messed up the styling.”

Yuuri just stared at him. His hair was messed up on the side, but it just needed to be smoothed down a bit and fixed in the front. “Mila is right over there… she’s the person you should probably be talking to.”

“I want you to fix it,” Victor insisted, a smile playing on his lips. He was enjoying this.

Yuuri sighed and reached up tentatively, reminding himself of how many people would love to be in his shoes right now, and let his fingers smooth out his light, soft hair. It was really soft. Yuuri really hoped he didn’t gasp when he touched it, but judging by the look on Victor’s face, he probably did. He quickly fixed the front, praying that Victor didn’t notice how badly he was blushing, but he was sure he did.

“Mr. Katsuki?” Oh my God, Yuuri was going to die. He was sure of it. He jerked his hand back and stumbled back from Victor. There was Mr. Feltsman, walking towards him, looking furious. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“I- I-“ he stammered, his mind reaching for words but coming up empty.

“He was just helping me with my hair, Yakov,” Victor said. “He’s the hair and make-up intern, right? I asked him to fix my hair.”

Mr. Feltsman looked from Yuuri to Victor a few times, muttered something and then walked away.

“Sorry,” Yuuri mumbled, and started to walk away.

“Wait,” Victor said, catching his wrist. “That was my fault. I don’t know why he made such a big deal about it, though.”

“He thought it was,” Yuuri stopped himself. “Unprofessional.”

Victor laughed. He froze as he reached out and tucked a lock of Yuuri’s black hair behind his ear. He winked at him again, which was beginning to become a habit for him, and then turned and walked away.

Is this what celebrities do keep themselves entertained? Victor obviously knew how attractive he was. Maybe he liked toying with people, but Yuuri didn’t want to be one of them – even if the walls of his bedroom back home in Hatsetsu were covered in posters of him.


	2. Chapter 2

“You’re home late. How was it today?” Phichit, Yuuri’s roommate, was sitting on the couch in sweatpants with a bowl of popcorn watching one of the King and the Skater movies. Yuuri couldn’t tell which one at first glance, but it looked like the second one. He was pretty fluent in movies, having always been a movie junkie.

He and Phichit had become best friends when they were assigned as roommates at the University of Michigan in Detroit. Yuuri studied film production and Phichit was a studio art major. They had just graduated and moved to LA about a month before. Since then, Yuuri was doing this once-in-a-lifetime-opportunity paid internship and Phichit had a few commissions for pieces that he was working on. They were doing well enough between the two of them to rent a pretty nice apartment.

Yuuri hadn’t seen Phichit very much over the past two weeks, with him busy working on his artwork and Yuuri working late nights on set.

“It was interesting,” Yuuri shrugged, falling onto the couch beside him. “I think I know every single actor’s coffee order by now.”

“And what do the beautiful people prefer?” Phichit teased. “Surely, their orders must be so much more complicated than us common folk’s.”

“You’d be amazed. I have gone to that Starbucks at least fifty times in the past two weeks,” Yuuri sighed. “Although, there is this really cute guy that works there that asked for my number yesterday.”

“So it’s not all bad, right?” He smiled.

“I guess not,” Yuuri responded. “I’m just excited about St. Petersburg.”

____________________

The next week on set wasn’t too exciting. Yuuri spent the majority of his time running errands for Mila and Yakov, from Starbucks to going out and purchasing new makeup in a shade that Mila didn’t have but needed. Mila actually started teaching him some new tricks about doing the stage makeup, and she let him try it out on some of the extras. She seemed pretty impressed on how fast Yuuri caught on. Once, she even let him do Lilia Baranovskaya’s hair. Lilia was a pretty well-known actress playing Victor’s character’s mother.

Speaking of Victor… he hadn’t really left Yuuri alone all week. He was always asking him to get him coffee, or taking every opportunity he had to tease or flirt with him. At least, Yuuri thought he was flirting with him? It certainly seemed like it, but Yuuri decided that he shouldn’t just assume Victor was flirting with him. Guys like Victor Nikiforov don’t go for people like him.

Yuuri was no model; his weight was one of his biggest insecurities with how much it fluctuated depending on his diet. His looks were average – typical of his home country, Japan. He had boring brown eyes, black hair, and blue glasses. Nothing special to see there.

Anyways, back to Victor. Victor, Victor, Victor. He was actually driving Yuuri insane, getting under his skin with how much attention he was paying to Yuuri. It was psyching him out.

It got worse on Wednesday. Yuuri had been out running errands all day and when he finally finished his last task, he returned to the studio, looking forward to going home. He went in search for Mila or Yakov to get approval to go home, but he couldn’t find either of them anywhere.

“Yuuri!” An all-too-familiar voice called from behind him as he walked down the main hallway to the studio offices, and Yuuri groaned internally. Pretending he didn’t hear, Yuuri kept walking, but he heard the footsteps behind him quicken.

Victor grabbed his wrist and then his breath was hot on Yuuri’s neck, his voice husky in my ear. “Come to my dressing room in five minutes,” he whispered. Yuuri’s heart was pounding so hard in his ears that he could barely make out his words. “Don’t be late.”

The hand on his wrist and the breath on his neck disappeared, leaving him standing there alone in the hallway, breathing hard, face hot. What was he going to do? What did Victor want from him? His head was screaming no, just go home, but his curiosity was getting the better of him. Maybe he should go see what Victor wanted...

Yuuri picked himself back up again and continued down the hall, towards the main part of the set. Some of the technical crew was still there packing up for the night, but the rest of the crew had already gone home to get some rest before the early start tomorrow morning. He headed towards his station, grabbed his bag from his chair and checked his watch. He had two minutes.

Mind made up, he walked slowly towards the dressing rooms.

Victor’s door opened right as he raised his arm to knock. He had unbuttoned his shirt, his silver hair curling slightly against his forehead. His blue eyes looked stormy and intense.

Yuuri suddenly felt extremely self-conscious. “Uhm-“

He didn’t get a chance to finish. Victor pulled him inside and suddenly the door was closed and locked and he was pressed against it. His mind couldn’t even process what was happening, all he knew was that Victor’s hands were on his hips and his mouth was on his neck and he was so shocked that he couldn’t move.

“Vi-Victor,” Yuuri stammered, finding my voice, putting his hands on his chest. “Wha-what are you doing?”

“Yuuri,” he pulled back, his eyes searching his face. “Don’t you know?”

Yuuri just stared at him. “What?”

“How I feel about you,” Victor said, his voice low, “how much I want you.” He leaned in to kiss him, and he turned his head so Victor’s lips landed on his cheek. This was just too much.

“What are you talking about?” Yuuri exclaimed. “Is this some kind of joke? Because it isn’t very funny.”

Victor raised his eyebrows and gave him some space. Yuuri picked himself up and smoothed out his shirt. “I’m not joking, Yuuri.” God, Yuuri loved the way he said his name.

“Come on, Victor! You expect me to believe that? You’re Victor Nikiforov, singer, songwriter, actor extraordinaire, and I’m just an intern for this studio assigned to bring you coffee.”

“I like you,” Victor stated, as if it were that simple.

“Victor, no offense or anything, but with your reputation, I’m not too inclined to believe you,” Yuuri told him, moving to open the door. Victor’s arm shot out to hold it closed.

“What do you mean?” He demanded.

Yuuri sighed. “You’re known as a player. Surely this isn’t new information to you. You’re like Charlie on Two and a Half Men, before he threw that temper tantrum and got himself kicked off. Partner after partner with no commitment.”

“This is different,” Victor insisted.

“No, Victor,” Yuuri frowned. “It isn’t. You just want me to sleep with you.” He seemed too stunned to respond. Yuuri pushed his arm out of the way, opened the door, and walked out, shutting the door behind him. Why was he so stupid? Part of him knew Victor might try to pull a stunt like that, but he guessed part of him wanted him too. Yuuri couldn’t believe he had rejected him. He, Yuuri Katsuki, had rejected the hottest guy in Hollywood. Wow.

Wait, had that really just happened?

He sighed. Yes. Yes it did.

He walked out of the studio without even bothering to find Mila or Yakov and went straight home, trying to forget what had just happened.


End file.
